Road to Absolution
by the.write.way.42
Summary: The team deals with the aftermath of Ianto's betrayal in "Cyberwoman". Angst and fluff both in equal-ish measure. Will probably go up to "They Keep Killing Suzie".
1. Formalities

**Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood. Does that really need to be said?**

A/N**: **So, until recently I never realized that Ianto had actually been suspended. I've heard this now from several sources, but looking back at the Cyberwoman and Small World scripts, I can't find any mention of Jack actually implicitly suspending Ianto. So, I took some liberties with this; correct me if I've made any glaring mistakes.

_____

The suspension had been a formality, Jack had said, and Ianto had believed him. Believed him if only because he could think of no reason for Jack to lie---certainly the older man hadn't been worried about sparing Ianto's feelings, not after what had transpired. But, after the bodies had been moved, the blood washed up, all the metaphorical dust had settled and the five of them had been left standing in the Hub with nothing to say to one another, Jack had turned to Ianto and looked not angry, but apologetic. How much of his expression had been just a façade, the Welshman wasn't sure, but the Captain seemed to be trying, at least, to keep the team together. The team, with Ianto still a part of it.

So he had talked about formalities, and asked Ianto to take a "leave of absence" for the remainder of the month. Owen had said it wasn't enough, Gwen said it was too much, Tosh had walked him upstairs and helped him clean up, and Jack had apologized. It's just a formality, he said. You understand.

But Ianto didn't understand. He didn't understand how Jack could want him back at all, how he hadn't been banished, ordered at gunpoint to leave Cardiff and never return. Whether he wanted to come back or not, Ianto wasn't quite sure. Wasn't sure if he had the courage to face his boss after saying what he had, seeing the look on Jack's face when he had been confronted by the hitherto mild-mannered office boy. Wasn't sure if he had the strength to pick up the pieces of his life, when all he wanted to do was run. But that would be his penance, he decided eventually. His punishment for betraying the team, for not being able to save Lisa. He would be forced to relive his failings every day, see what he had done wrong every time he entered the Hub. Deep down, though, he knew his decision to stay was wholly selfish; it wasn't until Jack was holding a gun to his head that Ianto realized how much the team had grown to mean to him.

So, he had cleaned up that night, and he had left, for his leave of absence that was nothing more than a formality, to contemplate what had been done and what had changed, and what he had lost.

It promised to be a difficult month.

_____

A/N: Yes, there will be more. Not sure how much more, but I'd like to continue this for awhile. It will probably span Small Worlds, Countrycide, Greeks Bearing Gifts, and They Keep Killing Suzie, since I want to examine the relationship between Jack and Ianto before Ianto's stopwatch proposition at the end of They Keep Killing Suzie. It may continue after that, it may not. All depends on your feedback ;P


	2. Cleaning Up

A/N: The timing on this sort of coincides with the last chapter, only this is more of an actual scene as opposed to stream of consciousness. Next chapter will likely be from the perspective of the rest of the team, dealing without Ianto for the time being.

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Tosh and Owen had left early the night Lisa had been killed. Owen couldn't look at Ianto without murder in his gaze, and Tosh avoided him studiously, evidently hurt by his betrayal. Gwen had stayed with Jack, watching as Ianto tidied up for the last time that month, the last time before his leave of absence. Ianto couldn't help but wonder what the rookie thought of him now, what she thought of Torchwood. Whether she regretted joining. Hell of a day, it had been. Would have scared the shit out of him, had he been in her place.

She came up to the conference room just as he was finishing clearing away the last of the trash, leaning against the doorway and just watching him. He was silent, knowing she was there but not looking up. "How can you clean up after us?" Gwen asked, finally. Ianto paused at this, not expecting the question. He studied her cautiously for a long moment, and she continued. "You said it yourself. You clean up after our shit every day, don't ask questions, and we all just take it for granted. Still, after all this, you clean up. Why do you do it? How?" Ianto could see Jack watching them closely from a distance; Gwen seemed oblivious to his presence, and the Welshman couldn't help but wonder if she would be quite so vocal had she known they had an audience. He smiled wryly.

"It's my job," he said simply, gesturing slightly with the half-full garbage bag. Gwen stared at him, and he stared back, the small, ironic smile still playing around his lips. He could feel Jack's eyes on him. Gwen was obviously expecting more of an answer, so Ianto set the bag down on the table, straightening his tie unconsciously before continuing. "Life goes on, Gwen. World doesn't stop just 'cause Lisa---" his voice cracked almost imperceptibly. "just 'cause Lisa's dead." Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto could see an odd expression flit across Jack's face; Gwen's remained confused, pitying. Ianto just shrugged, looking for the briefest second helpless, vulnerable. Then it was gone, and his mask of calm professionalism was back. He nodded at her, indicating the conversation was clearly over, and went back to collecting the rubbish from the table. Without looking, he knew both she and Jack were examining him closely. Gwen stayed where she was as he bent down to pick up a crumpled piece of paper, shoved it in the bag, and then left the room, brushing past her. He avoided Jack's gaze as he swept past the older man and down the stairs.

Jack followed him and caught his arm, swinging him around so they were face to face. "Four weeks, Ianto Jones," Jack said, his voice even but his eyes betraying a surprising depth of compassion. "Grieve all you want. Learn to cope. Clean yourself up, and then I expect you back here, got it?"

"I used you, Jack," Ianto said, voice just as even. "Lied to you, betrayed you. You didn't want to hire me in the first place, why are you so worried about my coming back?"

"Couldn't live more than four weeks without your coffee."

Ianto accepted the sarcastic reply with a bitter laugh. "Right. Good to see I do serve a purpose here." He heard Jack sigh but turned away, tying a knot in the garbage bag and taking a final glance around the Hub. Gwen had joined Jack and the two watched him, side by side. He nodded. "See you in four weeks." Jack seemed to relax slightly when he said this. With that, Ianto bade them goodnight and left them staring after him in silence.

_____

He didn't bother to turn on the lights when he unlocked the door to his flat. Shrugging out of his jacket, he set his keys on the table and stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, unmoving. He stayed this way for a long time, the sound of his breathing the only thing breaking the quiet that had stolen over the room. Eventually, the even breaths turned into sobs, broken, rasping gasps, and tears slipped down his face. He crumpled, the careful mask he had worn gone completely only in the emptiness of his own flat, only in the darkness and the solitude. And then, he was too tired even to cry, too numb to feel the pain of the bruises and cuts he had accumulated that day. He dragged himself to bed and fell asleep fully clothed, only pausing to kick his shoes into the corner of the room. He slept all of the next morning, awake only long enough to throw his alarm clock into the wall when it went off at dawn, and then that night went to the nearest pub and drank himself into a stupor, stumbling home drunk for the first time since joining Torchwood Three.


	3. Symptoms of Withdrawal

A/N: Sorry it's been a few days, but I just started college yesterday (!) so I've been a tad busy. Hopefully I'll get fairly regular updates in, but no promises. For now, enjoy!

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"Oi, teaboy! Where's the coffee?" Owen's yell echoed through the Hub as he came clamoring up from the autopsy bay. It wasn't until he the looks on his colleagues faces that he realized his mistake. "Right, shit. No teaboy. I forgot." Gwen was glaring at him. "Sorry! I said I forgot. "The glare persisted. "It was just a slip-up. Leave it be, yeah?"

Jack was making his way down the stairs, and he shot Owen a look. "It's been a week, Owen, and you've asked for coffee every day. Make it yourself. If you call for "teaboy" one more time…" the threat remained unfinished, but Jack held Owen's gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment. The younger man finally looked away, heading off to his desk sulking just slightly.

"Leave it to Jack to defend the cyber-freak," he muttered, the comment just audible enough to be heard. "Never mind his lady love knocked me out, tried to convert Gwen. Never mind she killed you, twice…"

Unsure whether to laugh or reprimand him, Tosh remained silent, gaze flickering between Jack, who had stopped walking and was standing very still, eyes locked on the doctor, Gwen, who looked ready to strangle him, and Owen himself, who was suddenly very busy indeed. She cleared her throat self-consciously, breaking the spell. "If you're that desperate for coffee, I can make a run to Starbuck's," she offered, more out of an overwhelming need to change the subject than an actual desire to supply the team with their caffeine fix. Owen just grunted. Jack still hadn't moved; Tosh wondered how long the medic could stand that gaze before he snapped. Gwen, though obviously livid at Owen's insensitivity, seemed open to the idea of keeping the peace. She smiled at Tosh.

"If you're working, I can make a run. I've nothing pressing to do at the moment." Their eyes met, and the two women exchanged a small smile; since Ianto's suspension, it had fallen upon them to keep the men from killing each other. Owen seemed determined to drive Ianto's betrayal in as far as he could, and Jack, it was clear, was still terribly hurt by the incident; the sarcastic remarks and bitter observations, constant reminders of Ianto's absence, weren't doing anything to help. As neither man seemed inclined to answer, Gwen sighed, rolling her eyes at Tosh, and got her coat. "Right, then. Latté for me. Tosh?"

"Same," the technician replied.

Gwen nodded. "Jack? Owen? If you don't answer, you're getting straight black coffee," she warned. Owen spared her a glance.

"Fine by me," he told her. "Starbuck's makes shit coffee. Hell, since Ianto started, everybody's coffee has tasted like shit." For once, there seemed to be no sting behind his words; they were sincere. Not quite a compliment, no, unless coffee-making was now considered an impressive talent. But at least it was an acknowledgement of the other man's place at Torchwood. This seemed to calm Jack down somewhat.

"Just get me whatever's good," he said, finally turning away from Owen and grinning as if nothing had happened,. "I trust your judgment." It was clear when he said this that he, too, had become quite accustomed to Ianto's coffee. Gwen doubted that anybody in Torchwood had gone to a Starbuck's since the Welshman's joining up, and she couldn't blame them. Nodding, she headed out, glad to be free of the tension.

One week into Ianto's suspension and she was amazed blood hadn't been spilled yet. The past few days had been hell, plain and simple, with the lot of them coming in to work in caffeine-starved stupors, and trying to get by, realizing straight-away that none of them had ever noticed how much Ianto did for them. The Hub was stacked with paperwork gone undone, late-night dinners had been hectic affairs without his reliable deliveries of food, and it became quite apparent that when it came to general knowledge of Cardiff, or the Hub itself, Ianto had them beat quite magnificently. Even little tasks seemed harder without the young man to aid them; Retconning crowds of unfortunate by-standers had never seemed difficult, but then again, it had been done with such ease Gwen had always assumed there was a trick. If there was, Ianto hadn't shared it, and watching Jack try and shepherd all the passengers of a particular bus into a nearby pub so he could slip the pills in their drinks after a particularly nasty incident had been a painful sight. They hardly noticed him when he was there, but Ianto did more for the team than any of them except perhaps Jack. Compared to him, Gwen felt quite useless indeed.

Biting back a tired sigh, she pushed open the door to Starbuck's and wondered how he was doing. Were she able, she would have gone to check on him, but she had realized earlier that week that she hadn't the slightest clue where the younger man lived. None of them, not even Jack, knew that. Evidentially, none of them knew anything. They had, as it had been pointed out, never asked. Gwen made a promise to herself to change that once his suspension had ended, and feeling somewhat better with that decision firm in her mind, ordered the coffees and made her way back to the Hub, dreading Owen's inevitable bitching about poor quality and slow service.


	4. Forgive and Be Forgiven

A/N: Gah, I'm horrible! Sorry it's been so long. Been hectic. Anyhow, new chapter up. This will continue, don't worry. Just don't expect terribly regular updates for awhile…still adjusting to college life. Plus, I have a few little ideas I've been pondering, so I may take some time to play around with those.

As always, reviews are made of love.

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Ianto hadn't spoken to anybody other than the bartender, pizza boy, and mailman in the past month. It wasn't that he was being ignored by the rest of the world, isolated. Quite the contrary, in fact; it had started with a call from Gwen the day after, gone unanswered, and had escalated into almost daily voicemail messages from both Gwen, Tosh, and once, Jack, asking how he was doing.

They were awkward messages, distant but concerned. That Gwen would call didn't surprise him. She cared about everybody. People she had met, people she hadn't. Even people who let their girlfriends try and kill her. Tosh didn't surprise him too much, either, and he felt bad about not answering her. Bad, but not bad enough to call back. She had been his closest friend before---well, before. They had had dinner once or twice a month, gone bowling a few times, tried a few games of pool, during which Ianto had held his own and Tosh had been impressed. Her messages made quite evident the hurt she felt, the shock at his betrayal, but it felt good to hear her voice, to know that she was concerned enough to call him. Although he never answered, it was her calling that kept him sane that first week.

It wasn't until half a month of unanswered calls from the women that Jack had called. The message he left was tinged traces of hurt and masked by frustration at his silence, and completely failed to hide his worry. Ianto had been surprised by that one, surprised that Jack Harkness gave a damn, surprised the Captain would take the time to call the coffeboy, take the time to worry.

It was after Jack called that he took the battery out of his phone. He didn't want to talk to any of them, not until he had to. Not that he had to, of course. He didn't _have_ to go back. He could just…leave. Leave Torchwood, leave Cardiff, leave Wales.

He could, but he wouldn't.

So, it was with a great deal of anxiety, some terror, and not a little bit of guilt that he rose, exactly one month since Lisa's death, at five o'clock. He made coffee with shaking hands, and showered longer than was necessary. He picked out his best suit and took great care in getting ready so that it didn't look like he'd taken great care in getting ready. He made sure to arrive not a minute earlier than normal and not a minute later.

He very resolutely didn't wince when the alarms blared, announcing his presence to the world. Or, at least, to the part of it that mattered at that particular moment.

Despite the fact that he was normally the first, barring Jack, to arrive, the whole team was there when he entered. All eyes went to him as he entered, and he felt exposed, vulnerable, naked. He cleared his throat. "Morning," he said. Good. His voice was calm. Like nothing had happened. Because that charade could definitely last, he thought sarcastically.

"Ianto!" Gwen beamed at him, looking more relieved than anything else, and Ianto blinked in surprise when she embraced him, kissing his cheek. What the hell? It was Gwen, but…that was just a tad unexpected. To his credit, he maintained composure, giving her the smallest of embraces in return. "It's wonderful to see you." Astonishing. Complete sincerity in her voice, in her eyes. Was this woman for real? Could she really be that damn forgiving?

"You too," he said. Admittedly, that wasn't completely sincere, but he thought he'd done a damn fine job faking it. That was his forte, after all. Faking it. Pretending to be someone, something, he wasn't, pretending everything was okay…pretending he was okay.

Tosh hugged him as well, but said nothing. She couldn't even meet his eyes. Their embrace lasted longer, meant more, but the silence gnawed at the young man.

Owen just glared as the women greeted him, and returned to work.

Jack was looking down on them from the railing by the steps He met Ianto's eye, and indicated with his head to his office. Ianto nodded, making his way past the others to join his boss. They entered the office in silence and Jack gestured to a chair. Ianto remained standing.

"You haven't been answering our calls." The tone was accusatory, and Ianto bristled slightly.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Why?"

Why. The question was simple enough. We were concerned. We called. You ignored us. Why? Ianto didn't have an answer, not one he was willing to give this man.

So he said nothing.

Jack sighed heavily, irritated. "I was worried you weren't coming back," he admitted once the silence had gone on too long. Ianto's turn. Think of something to say.

"You needn't have been, sir. I said I'd be back, and I meant it. Sir." He remembered the last part a second too late. The older man frowned.

"Enough with the sir, Ianto. Nobody else calls me that. I'm not Sir, I'm just Jack, so knock it off."

Before he could stop himself, Ianto replied, "Sorry, sir."

Jack glared at him for a long moment, and then started to laugh. A chuckle at first, then a full-throated guffaw. Ianto stared at him, before smiling hesitantly. When Jack saw his confusion, he laughed harder, and eventually the Welshman joined in, laughing softly, the sound seeming completely alien to him. It felt like it had been years since he'd laughed last. It felt good. It felt…right.

The two men sat there, laughing helplessly, while the others looked up at the office in bewilderment, the sound carrying throughout the Hub. This time, the tears Ianto brushed from his eyes weren't from sorrow; that fact alone seemed remarkable to him. As the laughter died down, the young man felt some of his anxiety disappear. Perhaps---just perhaps, mind---he could be forgiven. Perhaps he could forgive.

Just perhaps this was the road to absolution.


	5. Coffee Rounds

A/N: Took me long enough to get this up, and I can't say I'm happy with it, but I wanted to let you guys know I'm still alive before disappearing again for a month. (Yep. NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow. It'll be awhile before my next update.) Next chapter should cover New Worlds and have more real dialogue. Enjoy, and see you in December.

___

Emerging from Jack's office after an awkward discussion heavy with tension and undertones of resentment, the first thing Ianto noticed was the mess. Suppressing a sigh, he grabbed a garbage bag from a spare closet he'd commandeered for just such purposes and set to work. Ignoring the untrusting glares Owen was sending towards him, he made his way through the Hub, shoving weeks of scrap paper and pizza boxes into the bag, and collecting the plethora of coffee mugs that were scattered throughout the work station. The others were working on their various projects, but he could feel eyes on him every now and then, and saw them tense visibly every time he passed. Tosh threw him forced smiles, and Gwen gave him a look so full of pity it made him sick. Gritting his teeth, he focused on his work, until the Hub had returned to its normal state of relative cleanliness. The task took surprisingly little time, and once finished, he set about preparing the first round of coffee for the day.

Back at the coffee machine for the first time in a month, he realized that he had actually, in a ridiculous sense, missed it. It lacked sentience, he knew, but nevertheless, it was comforting. A thing of stability. Something he could hide behind. And he did just that. After washing out the mugs thoroughly, he lined them up and set about making the coffee, taking time to get the measurements just so. He was in no hurry at all to come out and face the others again. They had gone long enough without his coffee that he was confident they could wait a little longer, so he lingered in the small corner of the massive base that he could safely call his.

Eventually, he became aware of Jack watching him, and decided that perhaps he'd spend too much time stalling. Gathering the mugs together on his tray, he allowed himself just a second to collect his nerves, and stepped back into the main workstation of the Hub. Gwen first, at least she'd only feel bad for him. She hadn't known him long enough to resent what he'd done. She smiled when he gave her the mug, and thanked him. Sincere, sympathetic. So typical of the rookie. Yet he felt strangely grateful for her.

Next up was Tosh, who accepted the cup with polite gratitude but didn't quite meet his eyes. Sighing under his breath, he left in silence and walked with dread towards the autopsy bay. Owen glanced up as he approached, but kept working, simply nodding to the worktable beside him. Ianto set the mug down and left hurriedly.

Jack's office was next; he walked hesitantly towards the door and knocked. "Open," Jack called. He pushed it open with his foot and set the tray down on the edge of the desk, handing the still-steaming mug to his boss. Turning quickly to leave, he was stopped by Jack's voice. "Ianto." He turned around. "Thanks." Ianto nodded mutely.

After the first round of coffees, the day went by quickly. With relatively little rift activity to worry about, Ianto spent the afternoon sorting through the paperwork that had piled up in his absence.

That day passed, and the next, and the week was…tolerable. Things appeared to gradually be going back to normal: feed the pterodactyl, chase a few weevils, make coffee, archive alien technology, repeat. The team gradually began to acclimate to this new arrangement, the silent agreement to not mention what had transpired with Lisa. In a perverse sort of way, things were actually better for him. It seemed his words to Jack and the rest of them had been taken to heart; no more was he just the teaboy. He was a real part of the team now. Lisa's death had done that much, at least.


	6. Insomnia

Author's note: I didn't expect such a fluffy chapter when I started it, but that's what it sort of morphed in to. So, here you go. Some nice, fluffy fluff taking place at the start of Small Worlds.

"You shouldn't be here."

Startled, Ianto turned, thinking he had been alone in the Hub. When he saw Jack, he simply shrugged. "Neither should you," he replied. He took in the other man's disheveled appearance and uncharacteristically casual clothes with hidden amusement.

Turning his back on Jack, he walked over to one of the computers and set the stack of papers he was looking over down. Jack was standing behind him, very close. Ianto could hear him breathing. He felt the man's hand on his shoulder. He glanced briefly at the hand, and then at Jack, before turning back to the screen. "What do you got?" Jack asked him, looking more at Ianto then at the computer.

Ianto shrugged, adjusting his jacket slightly, moving Jack's hand off his shoulder. "Funny sorta weather patterns," he replied. Jack had moved his hand but was still hovering, eyes trained on the Welshman's face. When Ianto attempted to sidestep around the older man, Jack stopped him, putting both hands on either shoulder and holding him still. Again somewhat startled, Ianto looked at him curiously, eyebrow raised. "Sir?"

"It's the middle of the night, Ianto. Why are you here?" Jack asked.

"I could ask the same of you, sir," Ianto returned, "but I'm fairly certain of the answer."

It was Jack's turn to raise his eyebrow, amused. "And what is that?"

"You live here, don't you?" It was more a statement than a question.

Jack laughed. "You know, I think you're the first person to figure that out," he commented. "Yeah, figured it was easiest. How long have you known?"

"I know everything about this place, sir." Ianto smirked slightly. "Besides. It's midnight and you're in sweatpants. You never wear sweatpants at work, and you certainly weren't wearing them earlier. Unless you went home, changed, and came back, I can only presume you live here."

Grinning, Jack moved in almost imperceptibly closer, but Ianto noticed it, rather uneasily. His gaze was predatory. "You seem to pay an awful lot of attention to what I'm wearing, Ianto," Jack remarked suggestively.

Ianto tensed. He had grown use to Jack's flirtations before Lisa's death, but now...were it not Jack Harkness, he would have been surprised at the audacity to make such a remark so soon after his girlfriend's death---his girlfriend's death at the other man's own hands. But, alas, this was Jack Harkness, and his audacity, especially when it came to all things sexual, was unmatched.

"Don't flatter yourself, sir," Ianto said calmly, managing to keep the sudden anger that flared within him out of his voice. "It's my job to notice things, however…uninteresting they might be." The last part was unnecessary, but Ianto wasn't feeling particularly kind towards the captain at the moment anyhow.

Stepping back, Jack studied him for a moment, not with anger, just with confusion. After a second it seemed to dawn on him. "Right, well. You never answered my question. Why are you here?" he asked, slightly harsher but not accusatory.

"I couldn't sleep," Ianto said simply. "Figured I'd be more useful here than sitting at home in front of the telly."

Jack's eyes were on him again, his gaze piercing, examining him carefully. "Ianto," Jack began slowly. "How much sleep _have_ you been getting lately?"

Ianto stiffened at the question. "I'm fine, sir," he said briskly, pushing past Jack. He was stopped again. The older man turned him around.

"No you're not." His voice was gentle. "You're not fine, Ianto. Clearly you're not. You don't need to pretend for anybody."

Ianto avoided his gaze. "Really, sir. I'm fine. Just a spell of insomnia. It's nothing to do with…I'm fine."

"Nightmares."

"What?"

"Nightmares. You get nightmares, don't you." This, too, was a statement rather than a question. "I get them. For years. I wake up terrified and can't sleep. That's why I'm up now."

"I…yeah. Nightmares. I can never get back to sleep after."

"Me neither," Jack laughed. Eyeing Ianto, he smiled. "Well, there's no sense in us being insomniacs on our own. You want something to eat? Drink? There's never anything good on television this late, but at least we don't have to suffer it alone."

Ianto looked confused, but shrugged agreeingly nonetheless. "I suppose that makes sense," he replied carefully.

Jack grinned again. "Great." He disappeared for a moment and came back with cold pizza and two beers, sitting on the couch and waiting for Ianto to join him, which he did, warily. Using one of Tosh's computers as a television, they stayed up for most of the night, finishing off the pizza and making fun of the late night infomercials, and talking about nothing in particular.

_____

When Gwen came into the Hub the next morning, she found them both asleep on the couch, Jack's head on Ianto's shoulder and Ianto resting his head in Jack's, empty pizza box in front of them and a few beer bottles on the floor, television still on.

Smiling at the sight, she turned the screen off and picked up the beer bottles, putting them on the table before gently nudging Ianto's shoulder. He awoke with a start, looking first at Gwen, then at Jack asleep on his shoulder, and back at Gwen, who was stifling a laugh at his expression. "I think he's drooling," Ianto deadpanned after a moment, and Gwen laughed aloud, waking Jack, who sat up with a start.

"Morning sir," Ianto said carefully, a smile nevertheless playing at his lips. "You snore." This sent Gwen into another fit of giggles, and Jack shook his head in protest.

"I do not!" he proclaimed. Ianto rolled his eyes as he stood up, taking the empty pizza box and the beer cans with him. Jack looked instead at Gwen. "I don't. He's lying."

"I'm sure he is," Gwen smirked as Ianto left the room. Lowering her voice, she nodded towards where he had exited. "So, how is he doing?"

"Better," Jack replied. "I think he's getting better."


End file.
